


The Stars in the Sky

by ChinchillaButts



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Introspective Arme, M/M, This is basically Libel worship, VERY small mention of Cura/Reue, can you tell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:22:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29981427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChinchillaButts/pseuds/ChinchillaButts
Summary: Libel hung the stars in the sky. They are ever quiet and undeniably present, denoting the limitless world beyond them and their silent vigil in promised eternity.
Relationships: Arme/Libel (IDOLiSH7)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	The Stars in the Sky

Night has fallen over the Ground. 

Arme creeps out of his tent, careful not to disturb the sleeping figures of Rebellion beside him. The whistling of wind sweeps over barren land, only to be dispersed into the earth’s soil. Coupled with the soft sounds of Fuga’s snoring, it is a stillness much needed for rest and recuperation.

Arme isn’t a stranger to silence. In the confines of his room high up in the Church of Nerve, he has grown all too used to stifling silence. Silence that echoed in the room far too often, forever lost in the walls, unable to escape, until hours blended into days blended into months into years.

And yet, Arme can feel that this is a different kind of quietude. One that you could feel comfort residing in, instead of hollow loneliness.

He finds Libel lying in the dirt.

“Libel?” Arme calls out hesitantly.

He watches as Libel’s eyes snap open, only to once more relax as they settle on him. He sits up and gestures for Arme to sit beside him.

“Your footsteps are quiet,” Libel notes, as Arme sits down next to him. “What are you doing here? You should get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“I could say the same to you,” Arme fires back, then recoils, surprised at his own bite.

_ I would never have done that before. Not to Eternea, and especially not Misericorde. _

Instead of getting angry, however, Libel throws his head back and laughs heartily. Arme thinks he could listen to his laughter over and over again.  _ It’s almost melodic _ , he thinks, and he wants to smile himself.

“I’m insomniac,” Libel sighs. “Have been for years now.”

It’s a surprise to Arme, that someone who seems as carefree as Libel would be unable to fall asleep. Though, he supposes, a man so great would have the weight of a heavy responsibility on his shoulders.

As if noticing the worry in Arme’s expression, Libel laughs and makes a dismissive motion with his hand.

“No, nothing like that. I don’t know why either. I just stopped being able to fall asleep one day.”

Arme turns to look at Libel. Libel’s eyes are closed, his head is tossed back, and his shoulders are slumped with none of the perpetual tension all the people in Ark had when they were in Arme’s presence. Arme has never felt so close to another person before. He craves this kind of intimacy.

“And you? Why can’t you fall asleep?”

Arme feels shame crawl under his skin. How can he answer that he is more accustomed to comfortable beds and cool breezes, when Libel had never known such luxury in his life?

“I-I don’t feel tired,” he lies, once more shocking himself with his own behaviour.

Libel doesn’t seem to notice his lie, or maybe it doesn’t matter to him.

“Are you angry at me? For kidnapping you, I mean. You’re more agreeable than I thought you would be.”

Arme thinks of the man who crashed through the ceiling, so brazen and bold, and the sunlight streaming into the Church from behind him, bathing him in resplendent gold. Despite living in a church all his life, Libel had looked like the holiest thing Arme had ever seen.

He shakes his head.

“I think the Ground is beautiful. I want to save the people on the Ground, too. I have no regrets.”

“To be honest, I was terrified. I still am at times. But seeing all of you try so hard inspires me. It makes me want to try harder, too. I’ve already steeled my resolve. I want, no, I  _ need _ to see this to the end. I want to create a new world with everyone.”

Libel smiles and sighs, almost resignedly. 

“You’re odd,” he says. Arme wants to reply,  _ so are you.  _ But because he’s already said too much this night, he holds his tongue and smiles instead, hoping it will convey his hope, admiration, or whatever he feels in his chest that makes Arme feel like he is blessed by the cosmos.

It’s a while before Libel speaks again.

“They say after you die, you return to the stars.”

Libel’s tone is low and soft. Arme has to strain his ears to hear it, but he holds onto every word. It’s unusual, after all, that Libel initiates a topic so seemingly personal. In that way, Libel is selfless. Arme has never heard of his troubles and difficulties. He suspects Libel may be the type to regard such conversations as a burden on others.

“Do you want that? To become a star after death, that is.” his curiosity piqued, Arme waits for Libel’s answer.

“Yeah,” Libel closes his eyes, “I’d like that. A place where everyone is equal.

Besides, it’s a nice thought.”

“What is?”

There is a beat of silence until Libel opens his mouth and says,

“Rest.”

A complicated onslaught of emotions flicker over Libel’s features, but they are gone so quickly Arme thinks he might have just dreamt it up.

Then Libel opens his eyes and turns to grin at him, and everything is back to what Arme is used to again.

“Not until I achieve peace and freedom for everyone, of course.”

The strange moment of static passes quickly, and Arme feels himself falling back into his place under the stars, next to Libel. The tension gripping his insides loosen and he feels laughter bubble in his chest at Libel’s words. He feels unbearably warm and full, and his stomach is fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. These are all things Libel has taught him.

_ How nice,  _ Arme finds himself thinking. How nice it was to hear him say something so profound so casually.  _ As expected of Libel. _

Under sterling starlight, the wisps of Libel’s silver locks frame his face, his skin not dissimilar to that of fragile porcelain. He looks ethereal. Transient, even. But his warmth is undeniable. It betrays his image.

To Arme, Libel is a source of strength. Libel is the very incarnation of the land he vows to protect, and of the land Arme wants to save. To Arme, the Ground and Libel are one and the same.

“It’s beautiful,” Arme offers.

He is rewarded with a brilliant smile. For a moment frozen in time, Arme thinks he sees stars.

  
  


Arme’s earliest memories are in black and white.

The white walls of his room, the black clothing worn by the people in the church.

It is simple, to say the least.

He remembers learning the word “Tenshi” before learning his name. He remembers his delight when he was finally able to pronounce the word “Arme”. He remembers he had said it over and over again to himself only to be replied with nothing.

And he can never forget his disappointment, when he realised his name would never fall from any other person’s lips.

All until Libel crashed into his life one day and triggered the explosion of colour in his world. He had never known just how lonely he was until he found companionship. He had never known freedom. For once in his life Arme felt brave enough to try. He finally felt free enough to rebel, to secure his own future through his own decisions. That maybe, just maybe, his choices would matter. That he could make a difference.

All of a sudden, his monotonous life was changing. It was suddenly unpredictable, unsafe even. Worries he had never had before plagued his every thought. Comfort he had been used to suddenly morphed into cold hard reality. But it was exciting. It was free.

For that, he’d give up security in a heartbeat.

Arme believes with every inch of his being, that Libel is a force of nature. Never stopping and always in motion. Full of the swift and ceaseless spirit most associated with the coveted notion of freedom.

Libel is a man of action. A leader. Righteous and courageous, with room for all the people on the Ground and all the stars in the sky in his heart. Libel reminds him of heroes in the stories Arme has read.

Perhaps that is what inspires his confidence when Arme encircles his arms around Libel’s neck, wraps his legs around his hips and presses his body firmly against his back. Perhaps that is what spurs him to declare his absolute trust in him. Perhaps it is why his heart is devoid of fear when Libel takes the leap, because in that moment Arme knows he would follow him anywhere.

If his fulfilling his role as Tenshi can save the people of Ark, he wants to save the people on the Ground as well. All he has accomplished is waiting in his room until he is let out every four years to smile and wave at people. Compared to Libel, who has spent years of his life devoted entirely to fighting for everyone’s freedom, Arme doesn’t have the right to call himself a saviour. But if he is blessed with this power, he will definitely use it for the good of others.

This is what he’s always believed.

Until the words fall from Qual’s lips, and Arme feels his blood run cold.

He is nothing but a weapon. He’s a murderer. He killed Placer. He killed Schau. And just for staying by his side—he might kill Libel too.

As he hears the truth of his identity, all he can do is look at Libel in horror. Libel meets his eyes steadily, which only makes him feel worse. How long has he known? How could he have known and still stayed by his side? What sort of self-sacrificing  _ idiot  _ is he?

He spits out the words.

“Enough,” he says, “You don’t need to save me.” It tastes like asphalt in his mouth. He cannot deny the selfishness in him that wants to live.

“Why?” Libel replies, his tone firm. It doesn’t sound like a question.

Arme is taken aback. “I-I’m not a Tenshi! I don’t have any power!”

Both Libel and Qual are shocked by his outburst, but he isn’t finished.

“I-I’m just an ordinary human being! And one that kills others just by living! It’s not worth risking your life to save me!”

“I see. It seems our goals don’t align.”

In that moment, frustration takes over Arme’s senses. It stirs up a storm in his stomach, red-hot and bubbling. It feels a lot like anger. But there is a pang of hurt and betrayal as well, that Libel let himself die at Arme’s hands and kept quiet all along. Part of Arme wants Libel to lash out at him. He wants to be condemned for causing so much suffering to the people around him. And why shouldn’t he? His existence as the saviour of Ark is nothing but a fluke. He is nothing but a weapon, created solely for the purpose of destruction. Doesn’t he represent what Libel has been fighting against all along? Doesn’t it seem simple to lock him up where he can’t cause harm to others anymore? How can he still stand there so calmly and smile at him, as if he is still the hope of this world?

Then again, how can he feel this way? He's the one being saved. What right does he have?

“For as long as I can remember, I have been fighting for the Ground. I won quite a few times and I became well-known on the Ground. But the world didn’t change. There was nothing the strength of a single person could change.”

“Ark remained afloat in the sky. The poor remained poor. War persisted. I despaired. I was about to give up. But there was no way I could, because I had comrades who had come along with me.”

“And then I met you, Arme.”

Arme’s breath hitches.

“Me,” he says in disbelief. 

“At first, I just wanted to use you for a negotiation. But then, after we spent time together, I thought: If someone were to change the world, it’d be a person like you, not me.”

Arme wants to protest. He could never do what Libel couldn’t, nor what Libel has already done for the Ground.

“I can’t change the world on my own. But, if I could save you… The people from the ground could find hope from seeing you. You could become someone like that. When you said you wanted to do something for the ground… I could see the new world that I’d create together with you.”

“The one to change the world isn’t someone strong like me, Qual or Vida. It’s someone genuinely kind, who can make people smile, like you. A human that can push others’ backs and make them look forward.”

“B-But!! But it was all a lie. The Tenshi doesn’t have such power!” Arme objects, “I’m only... someone that kills others just by living.”

“Yes. The Tenshi’s purpose was a lie. There was no miracle. But because of that, the power to make people smile is yours alone.” 

Arme gasps. It’s so unfair. He can’t win against Libel.

“I understand what Libel is saying,” Qual agrees, “I was able to stick to my morals in Unity Order because of you. You gave me strength. The world needs someone like you.”

And then, the final nail in the coffin.

“Arme, even if you’re not the Tenshi, you still have the ability to save people. Your kindness is something that can change the world. Your existence is worth someone like me, who couldn’t change the world, to risk my life. Few people encounter something they’d risk their lives for. It’s the same for everyone. That is why I am very blessed.”

“So, please let me fight for you until the end, Arme.”

In that split second of calm, he receives salvation at Libel’s hands.

Looking at Kabane’s features is not much different than looking at an old scroll. The pages are stained and mouldered, so much that you can no longer tell the words written on them.

Arme doesn’t doubt that every person has their own story, but he suspects Kabane’s can only be read in a forgotten language. And if there were still people in this world who could truly understand Kabane, they would undoubtedly be Konoe and Kuon. 

That is part of the reason Arme doesn’t try to gauge Kabane’s opinion when he has to make his decision—he knows he would only waste precious time.

(But deep inside, he wonders about the strained relationship between Kabane and Kuon, and that maybe, after so many years of wordless existence, Kuon has forgotten how to read Kabane’s story as well.)

Mostly, however, Arme knows this is his own decision to make, his own consequences to bear. He should not base such an important choice on someone else. Wiping the tear tracks on his cheeks, he thinks long and hard.

What would immortality entail? Arme thinks about the endless passing of time, the things that would remain constant forever; the things that would remain with him in perpetuum. The soil of the earth. The rise and fall of the tide. The shimmering stars of the sky.

And then, unwittingly, he thinks back to that night when he’d seen the stars with Libel by his side. He remembers Libel’s small voice in the dead of the night. At that time, Arme hadn’t been able to identify the emotions in his words, but now, after witnessing Vida and Kabane’s sorrow, he recognises it as a quiet tiredness. Now, no longer a stranger to what it means to live and the cost of freedom, he realises exactly how much heavier the burden people like them bear. Arme had been so caught up in the exhilaration of discovering a new world he neglected to see that that world was not beautiful, but a constant reminder of reality’s harshness for others. Compared to himself, they were worlds apart.

Immediately, a wave of grief sweeps over him. Libel deserves to rest. Arme shouldn’t deny him the right of a human being. No one should have to carry the weight of this sorrow and grief for eternity.

And yet, a traitorous voice in his heart sings: Spending endless nights under the stars with the man who painted them across Arme’s sky,  _ it wouldn’t be so bad. _

Then Arme thinks of a world without Libel, and all he can think of is black and white again, sombre and lifeless without light illuminating the darkness. That is enough to make him certain, that a world without Libel would lose its shine. Arme cannot imagine this world. He cannot imagine that what Libel wanted, no,  _ wants,  _ for the new world is achievable without Libel himself.

Someone who fought with his heart and soul for a new world deserves to witness it.

_ I’m not a hero, I can never be. It will always be Libel. _

Both Qual and Kabane are looking intently at him. Arme wishes he could stall his decision for eternity. But it wouldn’t be fair. Not to them, not to himself, and especially not to Libel. He cannot run away from his duty. This is his freedom. With it comes his responsibility.

_ I can’t decide what is right or wrong,  _ Arme thinks. So he follows his heart.

For the first few years of Arme’s new life, he lives in perfect euphoria.

Libel remains the leader of Rebellion, and the number of recruits grows at a steady pace, with multiple former members of Unity Order among them. Alongside the recruits, Arme has begun his physical training. It’s tiring work, but it’s incredibly fulfilling.

They’ve expanded the headquarters of Rebellion to accommodate the increase in people. The name Rebellion is spread far across the Ground as the leading organisation for freedom and equality against the people in Ark.

The new Unity Order is not much different from its predecessor, full of people fighting under the ideals of loyalty to their city. The people above are none the wiser of Eternea’s death, or the truth of the Tenshi. But Arme has realised that they too, are fighting to preserve and protect. And though, at the moment, he is unable to convince them otherwise, he cannot fault them for that.

They’ve buried their fallen comrades months ago, but the wounds still reign fresh in their hearts. Placer, Fuga, Schau, Vida, Eternea. Arme deeply believes that none of them, whatever their deeds, had deserved to meet their tragic end. Cura tells him he’s too innocent, naive even, but Arme aches for them all the same. For as much pain as they caused, they had suffered just as much.

Rebellion is acquainted with Horca, the last of Kokujohyako, with a certain degree of familiarity and acknowledgement. They occasionally seek his help regarding information and trade, but there has been too much history between them for their relationship to develop beyond that. They occasionally come in contact with Konoe as well, who serves as a bridge between them and Kabane and Kuon. They receive the news that they are living out the remainder of their lives and learning to treasure every moment they have left.

Arme has learned to do the same. Every moment he spends with his friends—his family— feels like a dream.

“I’m back,” Libel grins at Arme, gently stroking his hair.

“Welcome back,” Arme smiles into Libel’s chest. He inhales his scent and feels his breathing calm. 

“Gross, get a room.” Cura yells, accidentally jostling Reue awake from his peaceful slumber on Cura’s lap. Reue whines in a cat-like manner, causing Cura to freeze and his face to turn red. Libel laughs at his plight and Arme is unable to hold back a chuckle, as he covers his mouth to conceal his amusement.

“Not you too, Arme,” groans Cura, but there is no bite to his tone. Arme croaks out an apology between giggles.

“Libel, are you hurt?” Arme realises all of a sudden, turning towards Libel. He begins to frantically check for wounds, cupping Libel’s cheeks and almost squeezing them in his concern, his gaze scanning every inch of his skin for any bruises or markings. He receives a raised eyebrow and a warm laugh in return for his efforts.

“Arme, I can’t get hurt.”

“Oh, right.”

Cura shoos them out of the room, insisting that they are disturbing Reue from his rest.

Later at dusk, Libel and Arme hike up a small hill, hand in hand. Wordlessly, they sit down at the edge, side by side, their bodies pressed close together. They stay there and watch the sky fade to inky black. There is nothing in the world above Libel and Arme other than the stars, and Arme doesn’t need anything else.

As he closes his eyes, he presses his palms shut like the people in Ark had done in his presence. He doesn’t know who his prayer will reach, or if there even is someone to receive it. All he wishes is for this moment to last forever.

The days of mind-numbing, lethargic heat morph into crisp leaves and cool breezes. Eventually, the snow Arme had delighted in seeing melt to give way to grassy meadows and refreshing rain. Just like this, years pass by. Arme can almost forget the past and live in the moment, but eventually time catches up to him.

It first appears in the form of faint wrinkles on Cura’s forehead, on Qual’s hands and in the corners of Reue’s eyes. Their movements begin to dull and slow, but it’s barely noticeable that Arme can still turn a blind eye to it, until he can’t. As younger and newer people join Rebellion, they quickly learn about Arme and Libel’s situation, and those who still had a sliver of doubt in their minds can no longer ignore the stark contrast between the two and the other members of the first generation of Rebellion.

There is not a single scratch on Arme and Libel.

It becomes a sensitive subject in their organisation. Those who marvel at their invulnerability are quickly silenced. Arme is aware of the gossip, and though he doesn’t dare ask, he’s sure Libel is too. It was never a mystery, why they remain youthful and unscathed, but somehow over the years it has become an unspoken rule that discussion of why the leaders of Rebellion are unable to die is strictly forbidden.

Arme knows some view their invulnerability as a miraculous strength. That it is fitting for the leaders of people who are fighting for freedom to be unable to die. That it sends a powerful message to Unity Order, an absolute statement that they are unbeatable.

Libel’s authority is never questioned. He’s a good strong leader who can lead them to victory. There is nothing more to be desired. For that reason, it is an unanimous agreement that Libel should remain the head of Rebellion indefinitely. And under every gaze replete with respect and awe, what can Libel do but comply? Though Libel’s presence is ever comforting—it eases the anxiety in Arme’s heart—he wonders every so often if Libel, too, wants to fall asleep.

The last time Arme cries is at the foot of their comrades’ grave.

Libel’s arm is firm around his shaking shoulders, but his teeth are clenched. It’s ironic, that he is being comforted when it’s his fault, his responsibility that they are separated from the others in the first place. But Arme is too weak to reject the only thing grounding him to reality, so he takes advantage of Libel’s selflessness and allows himself to let go.

He doesn’t know how long they stay there for.

The passageway of time seems to both lengthen and shorten; the following years seem both long and short.

Eventually, centuries fall away to millennium until there is no Nerve, Ark or Ground. Arme and Libel travel the world, meeting new people and learning their cultures, languages and imitating their lifestyles. Every stretch of land they discover is thrilling and fascinating. Arme can almost believe he has lived a multitude of different lives, taking on multiple habits and identities. Throughout every lifetime, Libel is his one unchanging constant. Libel’s companionship, his bravery, his kindness, his altruism—these stay with Arme throughout the fleeting days and the long years.

At last, they decide to settle down on the hill where Rebellion’s headquarters used to be. For all their experiences as characters of different stories, in the end, they are Arme and Libel; though they have branched far out to the sky, they do not forget their roots.

They build a house on a cliff near the beach. The process takes a while, but they have all the time in the world. It’s humble and unassuming, but Arme has learned to appreciate the beauty of simplicity.

Their home has white walls and blue trim and blue shutters, every detail creating a picture perfect suburban house, except for its location in the middle of nowhere. Arme finds the irony hilarious, and wonders for a brief second of time had taken its toll on his sense of humour as well. They had smoothed out a route to the sea in the form of a winding white staircase and a sandy path studded with white stones. They had also lightly furnished their front porch with a table and two chairs. To complete the image, they had stuck a mailbox haphazardly into the ground at the entrance of the house, and installed a simple mechanism that would function as a doorbell, regardless of their inevitable lack of purpose.

The interior of their house lacks in colour and personality, but neither of them are concerned with it. They lack the technology that Ark had, after all, so there were few items they had in mind for furniture. Instead, only the shelves are stocked with books, trinkets and precious mementos from their travels. The rest of their home is bare and minimalistic, with only the essential elements for them to live comfortably.

As soon as they settle into the house, they settle into their new personas beside each other with a practised ease. Libel kisses Arme’s forehead in the morning and they take turns making breakfast. Then Libel goes to their farm in the backyard to work, and Arme busies himself with household chores. At noon, he calls for Libel when he finishes making lunch and they converse with each other about mundane topics at the table. Later in the afternoon, Arme brings a basket of fresh fruits out for Libel and coaxes him into taking a break. Libel finishes up his work for the day at dusk and after dinner they go for long walks barefoot along the shore. Finally, at midnight, they lie in bed in silence or amidst hushed conversation, neither of them falling asleep until it is morning again and day begins anew.

Their new life is a far cry from the heated excitement and intensity that the both of them are used to, but they adapt well. The endless cycle of routine is a transitory interlude, a brief respite from the tempestuous chaos of their past affairs. Arme and Libel effortlessly slot into their places side by side and both of them are content with their peaceful and undemanding lifestyle. Because of this, they never fight, never quarrel or disagree with each other on anything. There are no explosions or anything of the sort; there are no disruptions threatening to upset the balance of their harmonious lives.

There is only silent unease bubbling beneath a calm surface that only emerges on the rare nights of unrest, when the past draws them back to their place under the stars.

On these nights, Libel’s hold on Arme is especially tight, almost to the point of crushing him, but Arme never makes any indication of protest. Instead, in those moments, he wholly entrusts his fate and soul to Libel. They bask in each other’s warmth and sit vigil until daylight, bearing witness to time’s unfaltering perseverance. Through the night, Arme whispers all his worries about the future, and time and time again Libel reassures him that he does not fault Arme for anything, nor does he regret what happened in the past.

On these nights, Arme feels especially pathetic—like he’s a house of cards, and once Libel tires and is no longer there to dispel Arme’s fears, he will topple to the ground. Arme wonders if Libel knows how much Arme relies on his comfort. This is Arme’s most closely guarded secret, and he cannot let Libel ever see him for how undone and worthless he really is. Because then Libel will truly regret that he had a dream taken from him, and someone like  _ him _ is all Libel has as compensation.

Arme never tries to test the limits of his morality, or lack thereof. It seems like any indication of doing so is equivalent to an admission that he regrets his own decision. If he ever gives into his exhaustion, he’ll be running away. From his past, from his future, and he’ll have nowhere to go, nowhere to hole up. Forever running away, like a coward.

But because he’s a coward, he doesn’t have the courage to do anything.

Arme and Libel are stuck in an endless loop, and neither are doing anything to remedy the situation. If Arme does nothing out of cowardice, Libel does nothing out of consideration, or both of them do nothing out of resignation.

For once in their lives, neither of them are working themselves to the bone, striving for a better future, struggling to make a difference. The more Arme thinks about it, the more he feels hollow.

He’s consumed by fear. He’s so afraid that one day he’ll wake up and everything will have lost its colour because it would be as good as a confirmation that he wants to give up his freedom.

And how could he give up on himself, when Libel hasn’t given up on him?

That night, when Libel kisses the top of Arme’s head and Arme hears the gentle cadence of his voice rumble, “I don’t regret anything,” Arme almost wishes he doesn’t.

It’s a gradual process, like sinking into quicksand.

Arme counts every second he has with Libel. He’s all too aware that the peaceful days they share are numbered, so he treasures this precious world of him and Libel and every moment they have left.

He’s heard of a theory that every person goes through five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. That theory must be untrue, because Arme has never gone through any of those. He could never deny his reality, he can’t get angry at his own decision, he’s never tried to escape his situation, he’s always just lived with this fact that this is what he had chosen for himself.

Then, what Arme feels must not be grief. If not grief, then what?

But he’d never accounted for how long eternity would entail.

It’s as simple and unremarkable as it can be.

One day, Arme pricks himself on the stem of a rose he had been trying to grow on their porch. He watches as the shine of red is slowly swallowed up by the rapid regeneration of his skin. It has been a long time since he’s seen his own blood. He remembers the feeling of being badly beaten and bruised, blood pouring out of his wounds at a deadly rate. The sound of his heart slamming into his ribs as he surrendered to gravity and the stars he saw before he blacked out.

Now, there is no proof that it had happened, except for its memory seared into Arme’s brain. There is no evidence of his toil, no evidence of his suffering. Arme has nothing to remember the years he had spent chasing an ideal world by.

This is especially true for Libel. He must have had hundreds of marks erased from his skin. He is someone who has accomplished so much, but now there is nothing to show for it. And suddenly, Arme is struck with a realisation: their memories might not last for eternity.

Maybe it’s really all he can do now, but Arme can’t let it all go to waste.

He begins writing a diary, because he cannot keep his emotions and his secrets to himself any longer, and desperately needs an outlet where he can bury this shameful part of himself. He writes about his role as Tenshi in Nerve, meeting Cura and Fuga and Libel, getting a taste of the Ground, discovering his freedom, getting abducted by Kokujohyako, then cornered by Unity Order. He writes about meeting Konoe, Kabane and Kuon, how he was brought back to Ark, how he was rescued by Qual, how he discovered the truth of his identity, and how he made a life-changing decision. He writes about how his life began, and how it ended. 

By the time he’s finished, the aching of his hand is almost as much as that of his heart. He gives into his exhaustion and falls asleep at his desk, his hand still tightly clutching his pen.

Arme wakes up with a blanket covering his shoulders. It’s still dark outside. It must be early morning. If he hurries, maybe he can still catch the fading light of the stars.

Arme switches off the lamp, puts down his pen and stands up to take the blanket off when it suddenly hits him.  _ Libel. _

Suddenly, he’s running, out the house and down the path, to the only place where Libel could possibly be. Arme’s breath catches in his chest and he has missed this feeling, of his chest heaving and his heart thundering and his thoughts racing a mile a minute. The thudding of his steps on hard ground is a painfully nostalgic sensation. Images from the past inundated his mind from the hours he’d spent fleshing them out with pen and paper. That he’d made into something tangible that exists in their world. It creates the illusion that Arme’s life flashes before him, like a roll of old film unravelling in front of his eyes. Though he must not have slept for more than a few hours, Arme feels like he’s woken up from a long dream.

As expected, Libel is on the cliffside where they usually sit and watch the stars. And then all too soon, the world seizes to a halt again. Arme grits his teeth at the sight of his diary clutched in Libel’s hands, but he has no idea what he’s feeling and why he’s feeling this way. He shouldn’t have let Libel see it. He shouldn’t have been so careless. If he had been better, at anything, nothing would ever have happened.

It only lasts for a short moment. And then all the air escapes his chest and he feels crushed and so small and like he’ll break and all he can do is stand there and wait for Libel’s response. He doesn’t know how he wants Libel to react anymore. He squeezes his eyes shut.

_ This is it, then,  _ he thinks,  _ I’m sorry. _

Libel was the very image of freedom. He was power, compassion, bravery—but most of all he was free.

Unbound and unshackled, like a bird soaring over the horizon. The sun and the moon and the stars beckoned to him, and gave him their blessing.

The world at his feet. The Ground loved Libel.

All that fire and all that faith, all reflected in silvern eyes, bright as stars.

Looking at the weary figure hunched over at the edge, so close to death and yet laughably far, Arme follows Libel’s gaze and beholds the glittering sky above them. He stays quiet when he catches the shine in Libel’s eyes, something akin to longing.

Arme feels his heart sink like a stone. He allows himself to wallow in his guilt, and he knows what he has done is irreversible. Arme knows the death of Libel’s immortal soul is only the beginning of his own divine retribution.

He robbed the most invaluable treasure from the cosmos; something that had never belonged to him in the first place, and yet something that he had caged and imprisoned for himself.

He clipped the wings of the freest bird and stole the shine from the endless sky.

Libel saved him, but Arme damned Libel in return.

To kill the hero, would he be the villain?

Arme stole Libel from the stars, and he would have eternity to pay for his sins.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my feeling dump. This is essentially my love letter to Danmaca. I've been so attached to everything about it: the well thought-out and developed characters, the twist and turns I constantly got thrown into a loop by, theorizing and analyzing with my friend about the lore and meaning of Danmaca, and what the writers tried to convey and represent through this story. I've enjoyed every moment of reading it. It's given me so much joy that I'm definitely being dramatic here, but I want more people to know about this story and I want to share it with others as well.  
> To Arme and Libel, thank you for your story.


End file.
